My House Of Cards
by quietgirlinthecorner
Summary: She just wanted a simple life, focusing all her time on journalism and escaping her past. When she is dragged into the world that is Gotham City by both the Batman and the Joker, which one can save her from the past that keeps trying to kill her? Her life is a house of cards, and she will do anything to protect it.


**Hey, this is my first fan-fiction on here, and my first Batman/Joker fan-fiction. I do not own Gotham City or the characters, but I do own Elizabeth Jets and the plot. Please enjoy, and leave me feedback if you'd like!**

The pitter-patter of the rain on my front windshield caused my hands to tighten on the wheel as I glared into the street. My windshield-wipers working on overdrive as I felt my anxiety increase at its average rate. I turned up the radio, intent on blocking out the rain and my thoughts as I came to the last leg of my 5 hour drive to Gotham City from my home town of Boston.

Feeling the familiar slickness of saline tears stinging my eyes and cheeks, I pulled over, my vision already blurred enough from the storm. As I sat in the shoulder with only 37 minutes to go according to my GPS, I considered turning around and heading home. Pretending I had a different offer. I even let my mind wander to running off to a whole new state, falling off the map completely. I entertained that idea for a moment longer, I already had all my belongings packed in the back of my Toyota Camry. It wouldn't be hard to pretend I was just a young woman looking for a new life.

Feeling nostalgic, I took my wallet from my purse and pulled out the faded photograph. Holding it carefully in my hands, I turning it to the back, reading the faded sharpie marks.

 _"Honey,_

 _Your father and I loved you so much. You should know that. This had nothing to do with you, nothing at all. I wish we could tell you why we did what we did, but there is no excuse great enough to make up for the years we will miss in your life. You have grown to become an exceptional young woman, and we will forever be proud of you, no matter what you choose._

 _Always in love,_

 _Marie Ann Jets"_

Putting it back in my wallet, I dropped my head in my hands and let myself sob for the first time in seven years. My hair fell in a brown curtain around my face, blocking me from the world outside my line of vision. I could almost pretend I was headed home after a long day at work. Pretend when I got there I would be greeted by a loving cat named Charlie.

Raising my head to the real world, I let out a laugh my psychiatrist would call my defence mechanism and shook my head, clearing my mind for the rest of the drive. As I pulled back onto the street, I followed the instructions and changed radio stations, even allowing myself to sing along to the song Cellphones by Jack's Mannequin.

With Gotham City rising from all sides, I couldn't help but the feeling of anger and well disguised hatred to grow as well. I was to be staying with famous batchelor and billionaire, Bruce Wayne. Shaking my head in disgust, I couldn't seem to wrap my head around the need for that much cash.

My phone dinged with the arrival of a message, cutting my ranting short. When I pulled my car to a stop at a read light on the outskirts of town, I looked at the message. It was short and sweet, straight to the point.

'Miss Jets, it is Bruce Wayne, I was wondering if you were going to make it here in time for dinner of if I should rather wait to order a pizza for when you come in.'

Shaking my head at the formality of it, I couldn't help another laugh. 'Miss' was such a strange title, especially for someone you had invited into your home. I typed a quick response saying I would be there in 20 minutes and would love to attend dinner before tossing my phone into the passenger seat and continuing my journey into the city.

Being an English Major, I couldn't help but trying to describe everything in perfect detail, comparing the life here to that in Boston. My hands on the wheel itched to feel my favorite pen wrapped in them, simply spilling my soul onto any sheet of paper. The traffic seemed slightly congested, appearing to be the leftovers of the 5 o'clock rush. The small streets and alleys branching off reminded me of the maps my father used to collect of olden day london, streets reaching in no particular direction like weeds to the sunlight.

Arriving at a shaded drive, my GPS signaled this was my turn and I started down the drive, my nerves kicking in once more. To calm myself, I began to pretend this was a movie and I was the narrator.

"The woman's hands clenched the wheel, unaware of the danger that lurked in each of the shadowed creases in between the trees. She could feel her left foot bouncing as she attempted to pay attention solely to driving towards the manor that loomed ahead, a foreboding statue of the wealthies power over the poor. Her eyebrows creased in concentration as she forcefully rid her mind of the ominous thoughts and parked her car. She didn't know her fate would be sealed the moment she left the car..." I stopped talking and laughed a laugh void of all emotions other than fear.

I tried for a moment to catch my breath, reminding myself I had nothing to be afraid of, except for the billionaires judgement. Remembering my friends words, I told myself I didn't need to be so harsh towards him, I didn't know him yet. He was just another guy and I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt, not all men were horrid bastards. I chanted that silently before opening my car and stepping into the humid after-rain weather. I shook my head in hatred for the stiff feel of the air as I swore I could see the particles of moisture suspended in air.

I heard a door open and footsteps and turned to the sound. A man who looked to be around fifty or sixty arrived where I was standing and smiled at me. His eyes twinkled in merriment as he held out his hand.

"You must be Miss Jets. I'm Alfred, Bruce's butler. If you need anything at all during your stay you can report to me and I will make sure it is taken care of, directly." I smiled shaking his hand and realized how much he reminded me of my grandfather.

"Just Elizabeth, please. Miss makes me feel old, you should know that age is a touchy subject for women." I joked and he laughed along with me, wrinkles appearing on his cheeks and between his eyebrows.

"Okay then, just Elizabeth, let me help you with those bags and get you settled before dinner." I smiled as he took my suitcase, leaving me with my purse and my signature messenger bag.

We entered the house and I refused the urge to spin in a circle for the sole purpose of taking it all in. My old converse made muted taps on the marble floors as Alfred lead me up a set of stairs and down a hall. He didn't feel the need to keep up chatter and allowed me to lapse into moments of silence. Finally, like I thought he would, he broke it.

"Elizabeth, what is your favorite part of your job?" He asked and I smiled at him, knowing my look was a far away one.

"The traveling, talking to people who have no one else, no hope and portraying that through my photography and journalism. I love to take their photos and mail them back, so that they have something to smile about." I stopped feeling like I spoke to much, and my face flared slightly in embarrassment.

"That is quite some old wisdom you have with you." He opened his mouth as if to say more when he was cut off by a man that appeared on the balcony above us. He wore a tailored suit, his black hair cut and jelled to perfection as his tie peeked out from his coat when he bent down for Alfred to hear better.

"Alfred! I will be done with work in a moment, I will need to discuss some of the finances with you over dinner and..." He trailed as he spotted me. He looked back at Alfred then at the bags before speaking. "Don't move, I will be there in a second."

Not taking too kindly to being given orders by someone I didn't know yet, I bit my tongue knowing he was being nice enough to lend me his home, or at least one room of it. He took the stair moving quickly, his dress shoes clicking and vibrating slightly on the tile until he stood in front of us. His eyes quickly took in my converse, skinny jeans and red v-neck before traveling to my bags and Alfred with a confused expression. Holding onto his tie with his left hand, he buried his right in the pocket of his slacks.

"Alfred, what is she doing here?" He asked, speaking like I wasn't standing right in front of him.

Before he could respond, I let go of my anger and let my tongue slip and fold over the words on its own accord. "What do you mean, 'What am I doing here'? You were the one who invited me to live here, not to mention texted me while I was on my way if I was able to make dinner."

His jaw dropped and Alfred spoke up. "Bruce, she is the journalist you told me to talk to, I asked you if she could stay here and you said that would be fine. You have been caught up in work and your ' _extracurricular_ ' activities I don't blame you for forgetting. And I was the one who texted you to ask about dinner, Bruce was in his office, and I didn't want you thinking we were _impolite to guests._ "

Bruce took the hint Alfred left him and extending his hand, a smile appearing on his face. "Bruce Wayne. You must be Miss..." He fished for a name and his smile broadened when he remembered. "Jets. Right?"

I nodded as I placed my hand in his, shaking firmly the way my uncle taught me.

"Elizabeth of Beth if you prefer." I released his hand and fixated on the fact that his teeth couldn't be that white on their own and he must use the Crest 3D White Strips. He was still smiling when he rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry, I was so caught it up my work I didn't realize you were coming today." He grinned sheepishly and I shook my head at him, a playful smile gracing my lips.

"Or at all, admit it. I hate liars..." I joked and he laughed along with me, crow's feet appearing next to his stormy blue ones.

"Okay, not at all, but to make that up to you, I will lead you to your room, take you to dinner and showing you something mind blowing." His smile seemed stuck there, as did mine but I laughed slightly.

"Well okay then, but I'm trusting you to not get lost, I trust dinner to be good and that you won't eat like a slob, and that the last isn't gross or illegal." He laughed and then I added. "Or a fancy car. I cannot stand it when men talk about cars."

Shaking his head, he took my suitcase from Alfred, whispering something to him then trying to take my messenger bag. "Touch the bag, loose your hand. Got it?"

He nodded and began walking, a slight smile gracing his lips as he walked two paces ahead. I let him, studying the way his shoulders moved with an elegance I didn't know a man could possess. We arrived at a room at the end of the hall and he opened the door, letting me enter before him. Taking in the beauty I couldn't help but smile.

The walls were painted a soothing gray, while the comforter what white with a simple grey embroidered pattern of flowers on it to match the walls. The bedside table held a light blue lamp that matched the throw blanket and sheets of the bed. The throw pillows were a mix of the blue white and grey theme the room seemed to have.

In front of the bed was a dresser with a vanity mirror and a door that seemed to lead to a bathroom. On the wall closest to the bed there was a desk with a printer and a white board mounted just above. It had a filing cabinet to the side and the room was perfectly tied together.

I beamed at Bruce. "Thank you, this is beautiful." He set the bag down before speaking.

"Actually, Alfred did all the decorating." He mumbled, his face serious. I playfully swatted his arm.

"When a girl gives you a compliment, just take it." He smiled before leaving and started to close the door.

"Dinner in an hour." I nodded and waved him away, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall before unpacking my things and plugging in my laptop. Sitting in front of it, I decided I better write something to help me relax and settle in more.

The moment my fingers hit the keys, I was transported to my own world, where nothing else mattered. Nothing but me, my words, a blank page and the clicking of a keyboard.


End file.
